Winnona Borawski
soprano
Brian Davis, piano
___
Salima Thomas
mezzo-soprano
Amy Blackwood, piano
Senior, Recital
Monday, November 13, 2006
5:30 pm
Recital Hall, School of Music
Program
La rondinella amante from Griselda (1735) Antonio Vivaldi
(1678-1741)
Dimmi, amor. Arcangelo Lori
(16...-1679)
Vezzosette e care from Libro primo di villanelle (1616) Andrea Falconeri
(1585-1656)
Salima Thomas, mezzo-soprano
Poème d’un Jour, Op.21 (1878) Gabriel Fauré
Rencontre (1845-1924)
Toujours
Adieu
Winnona Borawski, soprano
Sapphische Ode Johannes Brahms
(1833-1897)
Der Nussbaum Robert Schumann
(1810-1856)
Morgen-Hymne George Henschel
(1850-1934)
Salima Thomas, mezzo-soprano
No, non mi guardate Stefano Donaudy
Quando ti rivedrò (1879-1925)
Winnona Borawski, soprano
Cinco Canciones Negras Xavier Montsalvatge
I. Cuba dentro de un piano (1912-2002)
III. Chervere
Salima Thomas, mezzo-soprano
Mädchenlied (Am jünsten Tag), Op.95 Johannes Brahms
Mädchenlied (Ach, und du mein kühles Wasser), Op.85 (1833-1897)
Mädchenlied (Auf die Nacht in der Spinnstub’n), Op.107
Vergebliches Ständchen, Op.84
Winnona Borawski, soprano
At the Zoo Arthur Walter Kramer
I. The Porcupine (1890-1969)
II. The Snake
III. The Giraffe
Old Mother Hubbard Victor Hely-Hutchinson
(1901-1947)
Salima Thomas, mezzo-soprano
Someone To Watch Over Me George Gershwin
(1898-1937)
Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man Jerome Kern
(1855-1945)
See How They Love Me Ned Rorem
(b. 1923)
Love’s Philosophy Roger Quilter
(1877-1953)
Winnona Borawski, soprano
In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the
Bachelor of Music in Music Education
_____
The hall is equipped with a listening assistance system.
Patrons needing such assistance should contact an usher in the lobby.
Antonio Vivaldi:
La rondinella amante
La rondinella amante,
Lungi dal proprio nido,
Serba constante èfido
Al suo dilletto il cor.
Non e possibil mai
Cacciar dal proprio petto
Il radicato affetto,
Il primo dolce amor.
Arcanangelo Lori:
Dimmi, amor.
Dimmi amor, dimmi che fa
La mia cara libertà?
Da che andò, come sai tu,
Alegarsi ad un bel crine,
Questo cor pien di ruine
Non l'ha poi rivista più!
Dimmi amor, dimmi che fa
La mia cara libertà?
Un pensier il cor mandò
A trovarla in sue catene;
Ma per crescer le mie pene
Il pensier mai non tornò!
Dimmi amor, dimmi che fa
La mia cara libertà?
Dimmi amor, dimmi che fa
La mia cara libertà?
Andrea Falconieri:
Vezzosette e care.
Vezzosette e care
Pupillette ardenti,
Chi v'ha fatto avare
De'bei rai lucenti?
S'io rimiro i vostri
Sguardi scorgo sol fulmini e dardi:
Nè veder so piu quel riso
Che rendea si vago il viso
The Loving Swallow
The little loving swallow,
far from her own nest,
keeps her heart constant and faithful.
To delight the heart
It is not ever possible
to drive from her heart
that deep rooted affection,
her first sweet love.
Tell me, Love
Tell-me, love, tell- me what does
My dear liberty?
Since it went away, as you know
To tie itself to beautiful head of hair,
This heart, full of ruins,
Has seen it liberty no more
Tell-me, love, tell- me what does
My dear liberty?
A though my heart sent
To find it in its chains;
But to increase my pains
The though never returned!
Tell-me, love, tell- me what does
My dear liberty?
Tell-me, love, tell- me what does
My dear liberty?
Charming eyes so wary
Charming and dear eyes ardent,
Who has made you miserly
Of the beautiful glances glowing?
If I consider your glances,
I perceive only lighting and arrows:
Nor do I see any longer that smile
Which made your face so lovely.
Gabriel Fauré:
Poème d’un jour
Text by Charles Grandmougin (1850-1930)
Rencontre
J’étais triste et pensif quand je t’ai recontrée;
Je sens moins audjourd’hui mon obstiné
tourment.
O dis-moi, serais-tu la femme inespérée,
Et le rêve idéal poursuivi vainement?
O passante aux doux yeux, serais-tu donc
l’aime
Qui rendrait le bonheur au poète isolé?
Et vas-tu rayonner sur mon âme affermie,
Comme le ciel natal sur un coeur d’exilé?
Ta tristesse sauvage, à la mienne pareille,
Aime à voir le soleil décliner sur la mer.
Devant l’immensité ton extase s’éveille,
Et le charme des soirs, à ta belle âme est cher.
Une mystérieuse et douce sympathie
Déjà m’enchaîne à toi comme un vivant lien,
Et mon âme frémit, par l’amour envahie,
Et mon coeur te chérit, sans te connaître bien!
Toujours
Vous me demandez de me taire,
De fuir loin de vous pour jamais,
Et de m’en aller solitaire,
Sans me rappeler qui j’aimais!
Demandez plutôt aux étoiles
De tomber dans l’immensité,
A la nuit de perdre ses voiles,
Au jour de perdre sa clarté!
Demandez à la mer immense
De dessécher ses vastes flots,
Et, quand les vents sont en démence,
D’apaiser ses sombres sanglots!
Mais n’espérez pas que mon âme
S’arrache à ses âpres douleurs,
Et se dépouille de sa flamme
Comme le printemps de ses fleurs.
Poem of One Day
Meeting
I was sad and pensive when I met you;
Today I feel my obstinate torment less,
O tell me, might you be the unhoped-for
woman
And the ideal dream that I pursued in vain?
O passer-by with gentle eyes, might you then
be the friend
Who would bring back happiness to the lonely
poet?
And are you going to shine on my
strengthened soul
Like the native sky on an exile’s heart?
Your wild sadness, just like mine,
Likes to see the sun set over the sea.
Facing that vastness your ecstasy awakens,
And the charm of evenings is dear to your
beautiful soul!
A mysterious and sweet sympathy
Already binds me to you like a living bond
And my soul quivers, invaded by love,
And my heart cherishes you without knowing
you well!
Forever
You ask me to keep silent,
To flee far from you forever,
And to go away, lonely,
Without remembering whom I loved!
Rather ask the stars
To fall into the immensity of space,
The night to lose its veils,
The day to lose its light!
Ask the immense sea
To dry up its vast waves,
And when the winds are in mad fury
To calm its somber moaning!
But do not hope that my soul will tear itself
away from its bitter sorrows and will shed its
passion
As spring sheds its flowers.
Adieu
Comme tout meurt vite, la rose
Déclose,
Et les frais manteaux diaprés
Des prés;
Les longs soupirs, les bien-aimées
Fumées!
On voit dans ce monde léger,
Changer
Plus vite que les flots des grèves,
Nos rệves!
Plus vite que le givre en fleurs,
Nos coeurs!
A vous l’on se croyait fidèle,
Cruelle,
Mais hélas! Les plus longs amours
Sont courts!
Et je dis en quittant vos charmes
Sans larmes,
Presqu’au moment de mon aveu,
Adieu!
Johannes Brahms:
Sapphische Ode
Text by Hans Schmidt (1856-1923)
Rosen brach ich nachts mir am dunklen Hage;
Süßer hauchten Duft sie als je am Tage;
Doch verstreuten reich die bewegten Äste
Tau, der mich näßte.
Auch der Küsse Duft mich wie nie berückte,
Die ich nachts vom Strauch deiner Lippen
pflückte:
Doch auch dir, bewegt im Gemüt gleich jenen,
Tauten die Tränen.
Robert Schumann:
Der Nußbaum
Es grünet ein Nußbaum vor dem Haus,
Duftig, Luftig
Breitet er blättrig die Äste aus.
Viel liebliche Blüten stehen dran;
Linde Winde
Kommen, sie herzlich zu umfahn.
Es flüstern je zwei zu zwei gepaart,
Neigend, Beugend
Zierlich zum Kusse die Häuptchen zart.
Sie flüstern von einem Mägdlein,
Das dächte die Nächte
Farewell
How fast everything dies, the rose
That has opened up,
And the fresh mottled cloaks
Of the meadows;
The long signs, the beloved women,
Who have vanished in smoke!
In this fickle world we see
The change,
Faster than that of the shore’s waves,
Of our dreams!
Faster than that of hoarfrost into flowers,
Of our hearts!
To you one thought oneself faithful,
Cruel woman,
But alas! The longest love affairs
Are short!
Almost at the moment of my avowal
Farewell!
Sapphic Ode
Roses from the dark hedge I plucked at night;
They breathed sweeter fragrance than ever
during the day;
But the moving branches abundantly shed
The dew that showered me.
Thus your kisses' fragrance enticed me as
never before,
As at night I plucked the flower of your lips:
But you too, moved in spirit as they were,
Shed a dew of tears
The Nut Tree
A nut tree stands greenly in front of the house,
fragrantly and airly
spreading out its leafy branches.
Many lovely blossoms does it bear;
gentle winds
come to caress them.
They whisper, paired two by two,
Gracefully, inclining
their tender heads to kiss.
They whisper of a maiden
who thinks day and night long
und Tagelang, wüsste, ach! selber nicht was.
Sie flüstern - wer mag verstehn so gar
Leise Weise?
Flüstern von Bräut'gam und nächstem Jahr.
Das Mägdlein horchet, es rauscht im Baum;
Sehnend, Wähnend
Sinkt es lächelnd in Schlaf und Traum.
Geogre Henschel:
Morgen-Hymne
Text by Robert Reininck (1856-1923)
Bald ist der Nacht ein End' gemacht,
Schon fühl' ich Morgenlüfte wehen.
Der Herr, der spricht: »Es werde Licht!«
Da muß, was dunkel ist, vergehen.
Vom Himmelszelt durch alle Welt
Die Engel freudejauchzend fliegen;
Der Sonne Strahl durchflammt das All.
Herr, laß uns kämpfen, laß uns siegen!
Stefano Donaudy:
No, non mi guardate
Text by Alberto Donaudy
No, non me guardate
Con quegli occhi ardenti,
Ch’io non so, altrimenti,
Di che foco avvampo,
Ch’io non ho più scampo,
Pace più non ho.
È, dunque, ver che in maggio
Nasceste colle rose;
Che al sol rubaste un raggio;
Che ogni altro ben s’ascose?
È ver che abbiate un gioco
Dov’ogni donna ha il core,
Perchè non abbia loco in voi pietà…
Pietà d’amore?
Quando ti rivedrò
Text by Alberto Donaudy
Quando ti rivedrò,
Infida amanate che me fosti sì cara?
Tante lagrime ho piante
Or che altrui ci separa,
Che temo sia fuggita ogni gioia
Per sempre di mia vita.
Eppur più mi dispero,
Più ritorno a sperare.
Più t’odio nel pensiero
E più ancora l’anima mia ti torna ad amar.
Quando ti riverdò,
Infida amante che mi fosti cara così?
of... but alas! she does not herself know!
They whisper - who can understand
such a soft song? -
they whisper of a bridegroom and of the
coming year.
The maiden listens, the tree rustles;
yearning, hoping,
she sinks smiling into sleep and dream
Morning Hymn
Soon night will reach its end;
already I feel the morning breezes blowing.
The Lord, he says: "Let there be light!"
Then all that is dark must disappear.
From Heaven's vault through all the world the
angels fly, cheering with joy;
rays of sunlight blaze through the universe.
Lord, let us struggle, let us win!
No, do not look at me
No, do not look at me
With those ardent eyes,
Because I will not know, otherwise,
With what fire I am burning,
That I have no more escape,
I have no more peace.
Is it true, then, that in May
You were born with the roses,
That you stole a ray from the sun,
But that every other blessing was concealed?
Is it true that you have a joke
Where every woman has a heart,
Because pity does not have a place in you…
Love’s pity?
When will I see you again
When will I see you again
Unfaithful lover who was to me so dear?
So many tears have I wept
Now that someone else separates us,
That I fear every joy be gone
Forever from my life.
And yet the more I despair,
The more I go back to hoping.
The more I despise you in my thoughts,
Still more my soul turns to loving you again.
When will I see you again,
Unfaithful lover who was dear to me like that?
Xavier Montsalvatge:
Cinco Caciones Negras
Text by Rafael Alberti
Cuba dentro de un piano
Cuando mi madre llevaba un sorbete de fresa
por sombrero,
Y el humo de los barcos aún era humo de
habanero,
Mulata vuelta abajera,
Cádiz se adormecía entre fandangos y
habaneras,
y un lorito al piano quería hacer de tenor.
Dime donde está la flor que el hombre tanto
venera.
Mi tío Antonio volvía con su aire de insurecto.
La Cabaña y el Principe sonaban por los
patios del Puerto.
Ya no brilla la Perla azul de mar de las
Antillas.
Ya se apagó, se nos ha muerto.
Me encontré con la bella Trinidad:
Cuba se había perdido; y ahora era verdad,
era verdad;
no era mentira.
Un cañonero huido llegó cantandolo en
guajiras. La Habana ya se perdió.
Tuvo la culpa el dinero.
Calló, cayó el cañonero.
Pero después, pero ¡ah! después
fue cuando al "Sí" lo hicieron "Yes.".
Chevere
Text by Nicolas Guillen
Chévere del navajazo se vuelve él mismo
navaja.
Pica tajadas de luna, más la luna se le acaba;
pica tajadas de sombra, más la sombra se le
acaba;
pica tajadas de canto, más el canto se le
acaba,
¡y entonces, pica que pica carne de su negra
mala!
Cuba Inside a Piano
When my mother wore a strawberry sherbet for
a hat,
and the smoke from the ships was still smoke
from cigars,
from dark Vuelta Abajo leaves,
Cadiz went to sleep between fandangos and
habaneras,
and a little parrot at the piano tried to sing
tenor.
Tell me where the flower is that man so intently
worships.
My uncle Anthony returned with his
insurrectionist air.
The Cabaña and the Principe resounded
through the patios near the harbor.
No more shines the blue pearl of the Antillean
sea;
it’s gone out, it’s died on us.
I ran into beautiful Trinidad:
Cuba had been lost, and now it was true, Quite
true;
it was no lie.
A fleeing gunboat came in singing the tale in
guajiras. Havana was already lost:
money was to blame.
The gunboat fell silent.
But it was later, ah, later
When they took "sí" and turned it into "Yes."
The Man With A Knife
Chevere of the knife thrust turns himself into a
knife.
He cuts the moon up in slices, but he runs out
of moon;
he cuts shadows in slices, but he runs out of
shadows;
he cuts songs up in slices, but he runs out of
songs;
and then he slashes away at the flesh of his
bad black woman.
Johannes Brahms:
Mädchenlied
Text by Paul Johann Ludwig Heyse
Am jüngsten Tag ich aufersteh
Und gleich nach meinem Liebsten seh,
Und wenn ich ihn nicht finden kann,
Leg wieder mich zum Schlafen dann.
O Herzeleid, du Ewigkeit!
Selbander nur ist Seligkeit!
Und kommt mein Liebster nicht hinein,
Mag nicht im Paradiese sein!
Mädchenlied
Poem by Siegfried Kapper
Ach, und du mein kühles Wasser!
Ach, und du mein rotes Röslein!
Was erblühst du mir so frühe?
Hab ja nicht, für wen dich pflücken!
Pflück ich dich für meine Mutter?
Keine Mutter hab ich Waise!
Pflück ich dich für meine Schwester?
Ei doch, längst vermählet ist sie!
Pflück ich dich für meinen Bruder?
Ist gezogen in die Feldschlacht!
Pflück ich dich für den Geliebten?
Fern, ach, weilet der Geliebte!
Jenseit dreier grünen Berge,
Jenseit dreier kühlen Wasser!
Mädchenlied
Poem by Paul Johann Ludwig Heyse
Auf die Nacht in der Spinnstubn,
Da singen die Mädchen,
Da lachen die Dorfbubn,
Wie flink gehn die Rädchen!
Spinnt Jedes am Brautschatz,
Daß der liebste sich freut.
Nicht lange, so gibt es
Ein Hochzeitgeläut.
Kein Mensch, der mir gut ist,
Will nach mir fragen;
Wie bang mir zu Mut ist,
Wem soll ich’s klagen?
Die Tränen rinnen mir
Übers Gesicht,
Wofür soll ich spinnen?
Ich weiß es nicht!
Maiden’s Song
On Judgement Day I shall rise from the dead
And immediately look for my beloved one;
And if I can’t find him,
I’ll lay down to sleep again.
Oh heart’s sorrow, you eternity!
Being with each other, only, is bliss;
And if my dearest beloved doesn’t come there,
I don’t want to be in Paradise!
Maiden’s Song
Ah you, my cool river!
Ah, and you, my little red rose!
Why do you blossom for me so early?
I don’t have anyone for whom to pick you!
Shall I pick you for my mother?
No mother have I an orphan!
Shall I pick you for my sister?
No indeed—she got married long ago!
Shall I pick you for my brother?
He’s gone off to the battlefield!
Shall I pick you for my beloved?
Far off, alas, linger my beloved—
Beyond three green mountains,
Beyond three cool rivers!
Maiden’s Song
At night in the spinning rooms
The maidens are singing,
The village lads are laughing;
How nimbly the little wheels turn!
Each maiden is spinning for her trousseau,
So that her sweetheart may be pleased.
Before long there will be
A sound of wedding bells.
There is no one fond of me, who
Will ask for me.
How anxious my heart is;
To whom should I complain?
The tears are running
Down my face.
What am I spinning for?
I don’t know!
Vergebliches Ständchen
Poem by Anton Wilhelm Florentin von
Zuccalmaglio (1803-1869)
Guten Abend, mein Schatz,
Guten Abend, mein Kind!
Ich komm aus Lieb zu dir,
Ach, mach mir auf die Tür!
Mein Tür is verschlossen,
Ich laß dich nicht ein;
Mutter, die rät mir klug,
Wärst du herein mit Fug,
Wärs mit mir vorbei!
So kalt ist die Nacht,
So eisig der Wind,
Daß mir das Herz erfreiert,
Mein Lieb erlöschen wird,
Öffne mir, mein Kind!
Löschet dein Lieb,
Laß sie löschen nur!
Löschet sie immerzu,
Geh heim zu Bett, zur Ruh,
Gute Nacht, mein Knab!
Futile Serenade
Good evening, my darling,
Good evening, my dear!
I come out of love for you;
Ah, open the door to me!
My door is locked;
I will not let you in.
Mother counseled me wisely
That if you were permitted to come in
It would be all over for me!
So cold is the night,
So icy the wind,
That my heart is freezing;
My love will be extinguished.
Open for me, my dear!
If your love is being extinguished,
Just let it go out!
If it keeps going out,
Go home to bed, to sleep!
Good night, my lad!
